The Shibusen Band
by book-thot
Summary: The Shibusen Band is nationally known. This is a look at all the little things and people that make it work. Marching band AU KiMa fic with a little BlackstarxTsubaki and SoulxLiz thrown in there.
1. Chapter 1

Band practice starts in 15 minutes and the band hall is loud and members of the marching band are packed in there like sardines while trying to grab everything.

Maka is the color guard supervisor's daughter, but she in no way let that get her into the program. She got in on her own skill. She really does NOT want to be late, so she double checks that she has everything and then goes out to the field and sets her flags down and waits.

Then she sees her father come out, he sees her and goes on his usual rant about how much he loves her and that she's his precious baby girl. She rolls her eyes and looks away. Then she sees her instructor walk up and she smiles. She really does love Marie, she makes her father bearable.

The drum majors walk up onto the stage and the band goes quiet. The drum major closest to her is a little crazy, but it's worth it for his skill. The band calls him Kid, no one really knows why. But that's a worry for another day, this is the first day of band camp. The freshman look around the band in wonder and excitement. Some start to speak before being silenced by the upperclassmen around them. The metronome click starts and the band simultaneously brings their instruments up and the first note echoes throughout the empty parking lot.

A/N:Sorry for the short crappy chapter, they'll get better and longer I promise, but it'll be a bit before this gets started properly because I'm having tech difficulties. This is also cross posted on AO3. Once my tech issues are fixed I'll be updating pretty much every weekend but don't murder me if I don't because band takes a lot of time, but it's a great cult.


	2. The Drum Major

Kid watched the band run through the show with calculating gold eyes. His eyes remained trained on the freshman, watching them to see how well they knew their sets. He made a mental list of the freshman that needed to have some review over their sets and some who needed help with their marching. His memory is one of the things that got him his position, that and his desire for order and perfection. His little tantrums when something was as he put it "asymmetrical" earned him his nickname.

He quite enjoyed the view he had from his spot on the field, it gave him a good view of the most talented members of the color guard. He loved watching them, their movements were fluid and smooth as they twirled and tossed their flags. Sure, the weapons of the guard were cool, but nothing drew attention the way the flags did.

He remembered that the sets in the show this year weren't very symmetrical. The directors can't make everything revolve around him. He just hopes he doesn't have another symmetry fit while looking at the set book like he did the first time. He had forgotten that his hands were moving in time with the metronome, the movements came so easily to him now. He heard the metronome stop and the directors gave their cue to the drum majors who relayed the instructions to the band.

"Reset to set 3a! Reset to set 3a! Set!" Kid said in a voice he knew would carry. Once the metronome started to click again his hands moved in time and he watched the show from above. He loved this program he really did, but it took so much time away from other things. And _why_ did the directors make them practice for 3 hours, why couldn't they use a symmetrical number, like 4, or even 2? He knew the practice hours would change when school started but he still wanted symmetrical practice hours.

Oh well, there's nothing he can do about it now. Band camp is almost over and he only has to endure the asymmetry for another 3 days. He was looking forward to his senior year of high school. For one, he made drum major, two, he has all his required credits so he can get a free period now. He decided to take it so that he has a symmetrical number of hours at school and so he has time to look at the set book.

He started looking at the rest of the band and noticed that one of the trumpets was off by .15 steps. He decided it would be best to watch and see if the error was made again to decide whether to confront him. The same error was made again and again every time the sets were run.

That trumpet was none other than the glorious Black*Star. Kid went to talk to him and the first thing out of Black*Star's mouth was "I am a trumpet I don't make mistakes!" And thus the disagreement between the drum majors and the trumpet section began.


End file.
